


you kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies

by alexanderendrone



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 01:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanderendrone/pseuds/alexanderendrone
Summary: I exclusively title my works with quotes from Tumblr that sound poetic but are from shit posts





	you kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies

**Author's Note:**

> I exclusively title my works with quotes from Tumblr that sound poetic but are from shit posts

"Die!" He cried, hand out stretched as it clamped around the villains face, sparking with electricty. The villain fell, very much not dead, but he seemed content with the outcome nonetheless.

"He has some sort of electric quirk, don't let him touch you!" As the leader of this particular group of villains, John stood protected by his hired meat shields. How long the protection lasted, however, was being greatly reduced by a hero that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Literally almost, as there had been nothing one second and then the next he'd appeared, clear as day.

"Try again!" The hero taunted, fire flaring out of his other hand and burning another villain a few feet away.

As he moved he muttered to himself, mouth forming sounds inaudible from the distance.

"Two quirks? Fire and electricity?" John thought out loud, studying the young sounding hero.

" _Wrong_!" A near perfect mimicry of John's own voice, and it felt like it was coming from all around him.

"A voice quirk? How many quirks does this kid have?" He drew the gun from his waistband, observing this new opponent more thoroughly. His eyes were covered by what looked like ski goggles and the bottom half of his face was obscured by a simple mask. The rest of his outfit was a black beanie and simple black clothing. For a hero, it wasn't a very impressive look. 

What he didn't achieve in looks, he made up for tenfold in technique, easily dodging and attacking, movements flowing perfectly into the next. The way he attacked was distinct, worry tickling at the back of his mind from the familiarity. He brushed it away, he had a bank to rob after all.

"Listen, kid, you're really getting on my nerves." Now that the young man's attention was on him he raised his gun. Hopefully, it would be enough to scare him away. He really didn't want some kid's blood on his hands.

The hero full on _tsked_.

"That's not playing fair!" The kid's hand reached towards him and the gun was forcefully ripped from his hand by an invisible force. He froze, staring dumbly as the young man crushed the muzzle of his gun like it was nothing. _Telekinesis? Super strength? What the hell is this kid's quirk?_

"What the fuck, kid? You some kind of mutant?" 

"Kid? Oh! How rude of me not to introduce myself. I didn't want to interrupt this little thing we had going on." The kid's grin was clear in his voice. "My name's Ezekiel!"

He froze. _Of fucking course this person was Ezekiel_. He had the worst luck. But, he hadn't seen the man's face, so maybe he was bluffing? It was a stupid thing to lie about, sure to bite you in the ass sooner rather than later, but it wasn't impossible. It was even dumber to question Ezekiel, if he was who he said he was. 

Well. Today was the day for stupid decisions apparently.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" John called out. While he couldn't see the kid's face everything about him screamed annoyance. Well. Man's face. If it was Ezekiel, while his voice was higher pitched then other men's, he'd be around 26. 

Younger than John, but not as much of a child as he'd previously thought. Best not to voice his opinions on his age, as his features that lended themselves to a younger appearance were a sensitive topic for the man.

"Ezekiel" tugged on his shirt's collar, exposing an intricate tattoo. Far more complicated then the basic ones you get for joining Atlas's crew, and a surefire mark of a higher position in it. It was a sign that, at it's core, meant to the general populace "harm this person and you'll find it difficult to get home tonight". All in all, not someone you'd want to mess with.

He really did have the worst luck.

While he'd been distracted eyeing the tattoo and then pondering over the repercussions of his actions, Ezekiel took the opportunity to strike.

Reflecting back on it, John wasn't entirely sure how he ended up on his back, but here he was.

Ezekiel raised his boot to stomp on his face and-

"Wait!" John cried. "What _is_ your quirk?" 

Ezekiel paused, and he could practically feel the grin in his voice.

"Like I'd actually tell anyone! What's the fun in that?" And then, metaphorically and literally, the other boot fell and everything slipped into darkness.


End file.
